


Cosmic Dust

by koalarin



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalarin/pseuds/koalarin
Summary: He supposes this is what he has been waiting for all along. The loss of raging fire inside of him. Like embers, waiting to finally die by the hand of night wind.





	Cosmic Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to one of my very, very best friends. May you always be given the best things in life. Hope you like your present! Enjoy ♥

Sometimes Parker Hall likes to think of himself as a collected person.

Surely, with being the first and only son to a pair of parents who put a lot of expectation on his shoulders, brother to two rebellious teenagers, dormmate to quite a troublemaker squad, long time friend to a certain ill-humored Wren and the infamous anxious-easy Libby, he has never had a choice but to be unless he wants an early death of frustration.

Or at least that _was_ what he has always thought, until the moment Vincent, a good friend from his high school days, calls him only to drop a rather – to his holy defense – shocking news.

_“What?”_ he repeats, dumb-founded.

Vincent clears his throat. _“Yeah. She’s recently back in the country, said to visit some relatives and all that jazz. I bumped into her accidentally in front of the cinema last night. You should’ve seen her, man, she was ecstatic to see me and Allie.”_

Parker stills. To be perfectly honest, he doesn’t know what to do with the information. Macy Millicent, his long time object of affection who suddenly moved overseas exactly five years ago, is now back in the country and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. Should he be happy? Should he be mad? He’s not sure.

He supposes if they were still in high school, he would be absolute thrilled. But they’re not in high school anymore and he’s not as hopeful as before. He’s twenty now and the world –  _she_  – has turned him into a rather cynic person.

_“Parker?”_

“Sorry about that, Vince,” he apologizes for zoning out. “So how is she?”

He can practically _hears_  the grin on Vincent’s face as he tells him, _“She asked us about you.”_ Dread. He feels dread. _“Said she’s tried to reach you but found your number unavailable.”_

He scoffs. “That’s because I changed it. A couple of years ago, may I add.”

_“That’s why I gave her_ this _number.”_ Parker immediately lets out a stream of curses underneath his breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah, definitely _not_ collected. Vincent’s voice now turns panic. _“What’s wrong, man? Did I do something wrong? Should I not give it to her or something? Parker, shit, I’m so—”_

“No, no,” he cuts him. He's a bit pissed, alright, but that wouldn’t be fair to Vincent. He doesn’t know anything. Nobody really knows anything about them. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

The relieve in his laugh is hard to miss. _Damn, you._ _“Thank God. I was worried there for a second. You know, thought you wouldn’t want to see an old friend or something.”_

_Old friend_ , he thinks as he lets out a snort. _That’s a way to put it_.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he repeats instead. “Anyway, I need to get going. Let’s talk another time, okay?”

After they say their goodbyes, Parker slips his phone into his pocket and groans. His head feels like exploding. This won’t do. He needs coffee, the stronger the better.

-/-

.

-/-

That night, his phone rings with a call from a number without a name.

He knows who it is even before he answers it. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to hear the voice he hasn’t heard in years.

_“Hello? Parker?”_

He thinks she’s quite lucky he doesn’t end the call immediately.

-/-

.

-/-

_“What.”_

The entirety of the cafe turns to take a look at them. Wren is practically seething, palm red from slapping the wooden surface of the table. Parker is half-deaf from her screeching and is currently avoiding her gaze, choosing to admire the cracks in the ceiling instead. And Libby... Well, Libby is Libby and she looks like she doesn’t know whether to be amused or embarrassed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Calm down, Wren,” she says, finally settles with comforting her fuming best friend first. “People are staring, you know.”

Wren’s eyes narrow immediately but she lowers her voice nonetheless. “Like I care,” she hisses. “This idiot here needs to —”

“Look,” Parker voices as he finally looks takes a dive and looks straightly at her. “If you _really_ think about it, this is actually the best way to settle things. Once and for all.”

“She left you hanging just like that,” she reasons back, face now stoic and voice devoid of emotion. It never ceases to amaze him how fast Wren can go from blatantly showing her feelings to closing it off immediately. “And now she wants to see you again? After all this time?”

Libby winces at the hostility in her voice. “Wren,” she warns.

“It’s the truth.”

He sighs, the sound of it so tired even to his own ears. “So you’re against it,” he remarks and Wren nods curtly. It’s no use to talk to her when she’s like this so he decides to turn his attention to Libby. “What do you think?”

The questioned girl fiddles with her fingers as she thinks it through. It is silent as they patiently wait for her opinion. After all, Libby is by far the most rational one when it comes to things like this. “What she did was terrible,” she calmly starts. “But, you know,” she casts a glance at them both before continuing, “maybe it’s actually good for you to meet her. Tying loose ends and all.”

He nods before taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s what I thought.”

Wren glares at her green tea. Two against one, they can see clearly how bad Wren is trying to stifle her defeat groan.

Parker flicks her forehead. “It’s not like I want to,” he says. “But it _is_  the right thing to do.”

She glances at him for a milli-second before turning her head so she’s now looking out the window instead. “What does she want anyway?”

He shrugs. “I’m not sure myself.”

“Then why are you saying yes?”

Libby pinches her arm and Wren shrieks in surprise. “Would it kill you to be at least a little considerate? She could have some kind of explanation.”

“I’m being altruistic for his sake, alright?” she rolls her eyes. “And what kind of explanation would be good enough for _that_?”

Libby groans. “You’re impossible.”

“Wren,” he says, tone serious. Wren turns to look at him, waiting. “I need this. I need a _closure_. Good or ugly or whatever, I need _this_ more than anything.”

Maybe it’s the exasperation in his voice, or maybe it’s the sorrow look he has on his face, but whichever it is, it makes her eyes turn soft and sympathetic. She knows this well, she writes about love stories gone wrong all the time.

“Fine,” she relents. Parker and Libby let out a small sigh of relief simultaneously. “But only _once_ ,” she demands softly. “Once and never again.”

“Once,” he promises and offers her a half-smile. “Thanks for understanding.”

She only grumbles in return.

“When are you going to meet her?” Libby asks as she reaches for a fry.

“Not sure. She told me to pick the time and place. I haven’t decided yet,” he answers. “Guess I need some mental preparation first.”

She slowly nods as she chews. “Take your time.”

-/-

.

-/-

He finally gives Macy a ring four days later.

He’s not nervous, he refuses to be, but there’s small knot in his stomach when she answers the call that he doesn’t know what to name.

_“Parker?”_

He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

_“I was wondering when you’d finally give me a call. Thought you'd forgotten or something.”_

Parker almost laughs at that. _Like he could ever_. “Nah, just a little busy.” That’s a lie, but she doesn’t need to know that. He quickly gets straight to the point, “Is this friday good for you?”

There’s a sound of rustling on the other line, she mumbles something he doesn’t catch, and then,  _“Yeah, I’m good. Just name the place.”_

To be perfectly honest, Parker knows a lot of good places. He thinks it’s mostly because he, Libby, and Wren always take turns to pick a place for their occasional meetups. Somehow it has become a fun competition between the three of them, each one always tries to upperhand the other two’s choices. Of course, naturally, Parker is currently the one winning. Libby comes second. Wren used to pick the worst places before finally giving up and now just opting for starbucks every single time because she sucks like that.

He does have a particular place in mind, one that is only two blocks away from their old high school. _Solare_ is a small hidden cafe people often overlook. He has never been there yet, but from the outside, it looks warm and soft to the touch, dreamy, something that all ladies would adore. Something that he knows _she_ would adore.

Quite a long time ago, back in their sophomore days, when they had found the place accidentally, he told his two friends how he wished to bring Macy there. _She would love it_ , Libby had said encouragingly, _even I love it already_ , and Wren had surprisingly hummed in agreement. That is why they have yet to come there. The two respect his feelings way too much.

But that is something he wanted in the past, not now, not anymore. He figures the place is too beautiful for him to taint with the unknown hazards this friday could bring.

So he says, “About the place, I can’t think of anything. Do you have a suggestion?”

She mulls over this for a while and when she speaks again, her voice uncertain. _“I heard of a pretty good pub.”_

And there’s that.

-/-

.

-/-

He’s five minutes early. He wishes he’s not but he’s always a little bit early for everything. That’s just his nature.

Parker looks at the small pub behind him. It is relatively empty for a friday night, but he doesn’t mind. He’s not really into crowded places and neither is Macy. At least, that’s how she _was_. Parker doesn’t think much about how different things could be now.

The sound of heels clicking on the pavement makes him turn his head. The sight that greets him sends a rush of nostalgia to the head. Macy is just as pretty as he remembers and she smiles at him in the way he remembers and there’s a heavy weight in his heart. But there are no skipped beats, no fireworks. Only a dull pain in his chest that he has long since come to terms with.

He supposes this is what he has been waiting for all along. The loss of raging fire inside of him. Like embers, waiting to finally die by the hand of night wind.

“Parker,” she greets him as she slowly walks in his direction. “How are you?”

He’s not really sure what to give her as an answer.

-/-

.

-/-

They talk about many things as they drink.

The trivial things such as the weather and superhero movies and good songs. About their studies and what they plan to do once they graduate. Macy tells him how she actually misses being in her hometown, how her family is doing, and asks about his. They also talk about their friends, both the old ones and new. All the guys she dated, all the girls he never dated.

It’s light and filled with polite laughters here and there. _Too light_ , he thinks.

Macy handles her alcohol pretty well, as he does, but he notices how she always scrunches her nose right before she takes a gulp of her beer. She orders another one, and another one, and another one. Almost too quick, too determined.

And then he realizes that she does _not_ drink to her enjoyment. She’s actually gathering her courage. That she, _no_ , neither of them is brave enough to talk about the past while sober.

So he orders for another round too.

-/-

.

-/-

The real conversation strikes as he walks her home. They’re both drunk enough now, with Macy being the one a little more between them. He knows this is also a part of her plan, since she’s the one asking to be walked home and all. He goes along with it.

She is also the one who drops the bomb.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?”

Despite the uneasiness weighting his heart, he snickers playfully. “You sure you wanna go there now?”

Macy twirls under the streetlamp, movements clumsy and so unbalanced and he thinks he should really grab her hand before she trips over her own feet but he finds himself staring instead.

This is the sight of the girl that has been haunting his dreams. This is the sight of the girl that has never been his from the very start.

He smiles bitterly, there’s the same old twinge in his heart. The one he’s been nursing since the day she buried all the possibilities. _Their_ possibilities.

She turns around and skips back to him until they are only inches away, the closest they have been all night. She smiles, even drunk, _still_ so Macy Millicent in every way. “That’s why you’re here for, no?”

Parker hums. “You still know me well.”

“Some things don’t change.”

"But you can’t really expect them to stay the same forever,” he shrugs. “Can’t be too naive. You never know what’ll hit you.”

She gazes at him for a long time, eyes tinge with despair. And then, “Do you hate me?”

“No,” he answers easily, not even missing a beat. “I wanted to so bad, but I never could.”

Macy hugs herself now. “I was awful, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, you were.” He feels like a jerk when he sees her wince. He knows it’s petty of him, but he needs to be honest now. He needs to lay everything bare now and he needs answers in return or he will never get rid of the chain holding down his heart. So he continues, all the while thinking why he feels sorry for the girl in front of him when the heart that has been crushed into pieces is his, and his alone.

“You left asking if I was willing to wait for you. We made a promise,” he attempts to recite his laugh, but it’s too hollow. “It was rather optimistic of us, but we did it anyway. And we were good for a while. I became hopeful, felt like it could actually work, you know. But suddenly you were just —”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers ever so softly.

“— gone,” he laments. “You were gone. And at first I thought you were just busy, settling down and all. Or maybe it was because you made new friends, so you were trying to fit in. So I waited. Days, weeks, months. _Years_ , Macy.

“I waited for you _years_. By the end of high school, I decided to just be done with it and shut everything off.”

He utters everything so calmly, so in control, he surprises himself. Wren and Libby would’ve been proud of him.

“Maybe that’s why I don’t hate you,” he tells her. “Maybe I’m just far too tired to feel anything for you anymore.”

Macy is trembling and her eyes are glassy, either from tears or anything else he’s not sure. She’s so close he can feel her every breath, can almost make out the taste alcohol has left on her lips. As if finally noticing their proximity, she takes a step back and looks away. “Will it change anything if I tell you the reason?”

“No, but I deserve to know.”

She nods and turns her back on him again, walking slowly ahead. She’s always been like this, always a few steps ahead of him. She takes her sweet time answering.

“ _You can’t really expect things to stay the same forever_ , huh,” she repeats his words, thoughtful. “I guess that’s true.”

Parker doesn’t say anything and she continues, “I did like you, you know. Really liked you. Chalk it up to being sixteen and infatuated all you want, but at that moment, I had never been anything but sincere to you. You were sweet and dependable and you were my _friend_. Could a girl ask for anything more?

“I had meant the promise. Back then, I had wanted you to wait for me. The first few months had been the hardest and I was incredibly thankful I had you to comfort me, even though we were so far away. But as time went, it did get easier for me. I made friends and I thought I could do it. I stopped bothering you with my trivial problems here and there, figured I would make you feel pleased if I could get on with my life without relying on you so much.”

It’s getting chilly and she tightens her coat. She still doesn’t look at him as they walk the direction toward her house. But she continues, and Parker thinks maybe letting it out is as important to her as receiving explanation is to him.

“But then somewhere along the way, it changed, Parker. I missed being here, but I _loved_ being there. My friends were all so accepting and I felt less and less lonely. And the stories I had saved to tell you just left forgotten in between the times I had my fun. I had nothing to tell you anymore, I didn’t know how to approach you after so long.”

Macy stops walking all of the sudden and he does too. _The punchline_ , he thinks, _here it goes_.

She takes a deep breath before turning around so she’s facing him now. Guilt and so many other things apparent on her face. Parker is as calm as ever, as patient as ever.

“Then I met a guy,” she whispers underneath her breath, as if she’s ashamed of herself. He knows. Of course he knows, he has known it _all along_. But this doesn’t make it any less cruel. “It wasn’t anything serious. Just a fling and well, it was fun while it lasted. But that was when I realized,” she gulps. “That my time with you had been no different.”

Parker laughs and it sounds so forlorn he almost pities himself. “So that was it,” he concludes dryly. Tears begin to well up in Macy’s eyes and he shakes his head at her. She’s not being fair, she shouldn’t be hurting more than he is. She’s not the one who’s been left in the dark for so long.

“Park—”

“Just one thing, Macy,” he bargains as he lifts one finger. It’s too late to worry about how much more of a fool he can make himself in front of her now. “Were you ever, at least a little bit, in love with me?”

Macy lets out a blatant sob and covers her face as the tears she’s been trying to hold back fall. He doesn’t blame her, the truth is he wants to cry himself. But he doesn’t, because he has asked for this and he gets what he wants now. It hurts but what is this pain compared to the one he’s been living with since years ago?

He is looking up to the sky when he feels her lean her head against his shoulder and clutch the front of his jacket. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m really, really sorry.”

She repeats her apologies over and over again and he thinks of her, of all that has happened, of how they were and how they are now, of his shattered heart, of the pain in his chest she has caused, of the tears she cries for him, of the emptiness he now feels, of the —

_Of the burden he can shed away now._

Parker glances at her, a trembling mess leaning against him. He wants to tell her: _It’s okay now, Macy_  or _I forgive you_. But he realizes at the moment, if he is one thing, if he has ever been just one thing from the beginning, then perhaps it is _humane_.

So he ends everything with, “It doesn’t hurt anymore. At least, not as much.”

-/-

.

-/-

“Parker.”

“Yes?”

“Please be happy.”

“You too, Macy.”

-/-

.

-/-

It is only when he’s in the solitary of his room, lying in the dark, that he gives in to temptation and lets himself cry for the girl he once loved recklessly.

_Just this one time_ , he promises himself. _Just this one time_.

And then he lets go.

-/-

.

-/-

He wakes up later than usual.

It’s saturday and he doesn’t have anything to do. He entertains himself with the idea of going back to sleep but quickly throws it out of the window when a text from Libby comes.

_Let’s meet up. It’s your turn to come up with the place this time._

Parker heads toward the bathroom and gets ready for the day.

-/-

.

-/-

“Mind telling the reason why we’re here?”

Parker turns to look at his two of them. They’re standing in front of _Solare_ , it’s cloudy and they should just enter the cafe now and ask questions later, but since they’re Libby Jamison and Wren Atteberry, then of course they need answers now and everything else later.

He fishes his phone out from his pocket and pretends to capture the sight of a dumb-founded Libby and an overly-suspicious Wren. They don’t even budge so he quickly decides to put it away and takes his time before answering the former girl’s question.

“I thought you’ve always wanted to come here, Libby.”

She mumbles something incoherently in return and Wren grimaces before opening her mouth to say, “Please don’t tell me we’re here because you think that going on a date with both of your best friends is a good idea.”

He whistles just to mess with her temper. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

“I beg to differ,” Wren deadpans.

Despite himself, he smiles good-naturedly. One that almost reaches his eyes. “Thought it’d be better if it’s with you dumbasses anyway.”

It takes a moment for the realization to sink in and when it does, Wren is the first one to move. She swiftly pushes the door open and steps into the cafe. “Come on, then.”

Libby and Parker follow closely. They let Libby choose their seating as always, but the probability of her choosing the exact table he has always thought Macy would _if_ they ever went there is one he has never considered before. He doesn’t complain though, but his smile weakens and he _knows_ they know. A waitress comes and it takes three minutes for them to decide what to order. Only beverages, no food. Their stomachs are miraculously full and though no one would admit, it’s probably from tension and dread. Parker wants to laugh. His best friends are such worrywarts.

Another sixty seconds without even a word, he raises his eyebrow at them. Libby looks away, holding in a guilty smile. Wren doesn’t waver. _As expected_.

“So,” she breaks the silence. “When does she leave?”

_Straight to the point, aren’t you_. He hums. “In about two weeks, I think.”

The memory from last night is crystal clear, but it’s something he would rather not talk about.

A hand goes to her temple and her fingers skillfully massage it. She mutters underneath her breath, something along the lines of _I told you so_ and _malicious lady_ and _murder_. He chooses to shrug it off.

Libby rolls her eyes at Wren’s dramatic reaction before turning to face him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, expression kind and compassionate as always.

He thinks about it for a moment. “I’d like to tell you that I am,” he pauses for a second, and then, “but there’s the same dull ache in my chest, and while it’s not gnawing at me like before, it’s still there.” He exhales a chuckle. “I mean, I do feel better. But —”

“But it doesn’t feel like you’ve been freed yet. At least, not completely,” Wren offers and he nods, because she has always been the one better with words between the three of them. She takes one of his hand into hers and squeezes it. When she speaks again, her voice is almost soothing. “It’s okay, Parker. It takes time. No matter how you look at it, five years was quite a long time to hold on to something you weren’t even sure yourself.”

Parker Hall, once again, thinks he should probably thank the lucky stars for granting him such wondrous people for friends.

-/-

.

-/-

“Anyway, you’re paying for our drinks.”

He scowls. “What the hell?”

Libby snorts as Wren heatedly argues back, “We’re so _not_ hearing you mope about your unfortunate love life for free.”

_Right_ , he takes that back. He swiftly kicks – which he _thinks_ is – her leg under the table and when Libby is the one who chokes on her coffee, he sputters apologies repeatedly in between his own laughters.

-/-

.

-/-

He spends his days like he always does.

(studying, sleeping, coffee, hanging out with the noisy lot he calls dormmates, coffee, sporadic meetups with Libby and Wren, _coffee_.)

He’s walking down the hallway, finally done with a hell _ish_ quiz about something his brain can’t even remember anymore, when his phone vibrates with a message.

It’s from Macy. _My flight is in an hour_ , it says.

Parker doesn’t hesitate when he types, _Take care_. And then,  _Goodbye, Macy_.

It’s sent. He continues to walk, deciding not to wait – nor hope – for a reply.

-/-

.

-/-

It isn’t until a few months later, when summer has turned into autumn, Parker wakes up one morning only to find he’s no longer the same.

The weather is too chilly and it’s too damn early and if only he hasn’t gotten himself a wednesday full of classes – and one with a certain professor he calls monster – then he would still be in the warmth of his bed, staying cooped up all day. Everything else be damned for all he cares.

Parker walks rather brusquely toward his campus, all the while mumbling about stupid lessons and stupid college students and – sadly, not at all – stupid lecturers. He’s vaguely aware that he’s in need of his usual dose of coffee because his eyes are barely open and his fingers are sort of numb and his mood is getting worse and worse with each passing second and his heart —

He stops dead in tracks at the sudden realization.

Because his _heart_.

His heart is the _lightest_ it has ever been.

Parker wants to laugh and cry at the same time because finally, _finally_. He casts a glance at the skies to convey his gratitude to heaven above before taking a deep breath, taking in how easily breathing feels like for the first time in a while.

With a smile hidden behind his scarf, he marches forward and doesn’t look back.


End file.
